Chapter Text
There is a fine line between creepy guy with a telescope and perverted voyeur. Merlin crossed that line long ago.
He didn’t always watch his neighbours. The telescope by his window had once been used for the innocent purpose of stargazing, back when he’d first gotten it as a boy. But now he was twenty-four and still living with his mum and using it to spy on people and there are some hobbies that it’s best to grow out of.
It was honest curiosity at first. Why did Matt ride his bike up and down the pavement every Thursday? Who was the man in the suit that came over every Wednesday afternoon to visit Mrs Albright? When would Mr Turner see that the van his daughter got into every Sunday wasn’t a church van, but a stoner van?
And then Arthur Pendragon moved in directly across the street and Merlin crossed that line.
“I’ve got biscuits!”
Merlin nearly fell out of his chair and scrambled to pull his trousers up as his mother came in with a tray of biscuits. Arthur was just getting home from work and changing out of uncomfortable clothes into something more breathable. Sometimes that meant wearing nothing at all.
“M-Mum! What have I said about knocking?!”
Merlin looked at her dismayed but she was ignorant of the expression. “My hands are full.”
“The door was shut. How’d you turn the—”
“Are these dirty?” Hunith interrupted eyeing a pile of wrinkled garments. She set the tray on the table next to her son’s bed and bent to pick them up without waiting for an answer.
Merlin mumbled an incoherent reply and bit viciously into a biscuit. He couldn’t give his mum a hard time if she kept bringing him delicious treats.
“Oh!” She halted at the door, her arms full of crumpled clothing, but a bright smile on her face nonetheless. “Your birthday is coming up. Did you want anything special?”
Merlin spun in his chair to face the window again. There was certainly someone he wanted, but it was likely to never happen. Arthur was outgoing and successful, not to mention bloody gorgeous, whereas Merlin was introverted, worked at a grocery, and well, the opposite of gorgeous.
After swallowing a bite, he replied miserably, “No, just give me fifty quid like every year.” Then he lowered his head to stare longingly through the eyepiece at a topless—and soon to be bottomless—Arthur Pendragon. He may or may not have sighed melodramatically.
Finally, his mother left and closed the door behind her. Merlin waited until her footsteps were at the bottom of the stairs before reaching into his trousers and pulling out his cock again. His erection hadn’t flagged even a little. He kept his head lowered, knowing by feel where the bottle of lube was on the table next to him. He poured some on his hand and returned to what he’d been doing before his mother so rudely interrupted.
Merlin was lucky today. Today, Arthur lounged on his bed in just his boxers to watch television. Merlin could see the top half of Arthur’s body before the window sill cut off his view, but that alone was enough. Merlin caressed the planes of Arthur’s chest with his eyes, licked his lips and thought of sucking a collarbone. When Arthur threw his head back and laughed at something on the telly, with a bit of imagination Merlin could pretend it was a desperate cry for more, harder, faster.
Then Arthur’s hand wandered down to scratch his balls absentmindedly and Merlin came almost before he could get a tissue. His jaw went slack and he was breathing heavily, all while Arthur lay ignorant of Merlin’s bliss across the street.
Merlin tossed the tissue in the bin beside him and righted his trousers. When he looked through the eyepiece again, Arthur was laughing his brilliant, body-shaking laugh. Merlin felt something heavy in his chest and looked away before it could bring him down too much.
*
Hunith Emrys wasn’t stupid. Eccentric, sure. A push-over, even more so. But she was not stupid.
Ever since Merlin was little she’d given him everything he wanted. Part of it was to make up for the lack of a father, and part of it because she simply liked bringing her son joy. She would do anything to make Merlin happy.
Anything.
The second month after Arthur had moved in—and after Hunith noticed just where Merlin’s telescope was directed nearly all the time—Hunith had taken it upon herself to get to know the young man. He was nearly Merlin’s age, only two years older, and worked at an insurance company downtown. He didn’t make a small amount of money, but it was considerably less than he earned when he worked for his father.
Uther Pendragon was the reason for Arthur’s move. They’d gotten into a bit of a disagreement, and in the passion of the moment, Arthur had quit. It had been easy enough to call up a few friends and secure another position. That’s all Arthur would tell Hunith about his situation though.
Hunith approved of the young man. He was handsome, smart, and charming. She was sure he was perfect for her Merlin. He would make her son very happy indeed.
*
Arthur woke up because his wrists hurt. He opened his eyes slowly and looked to where they were raised above his head. A leather belt tied each wrist to a bedpost, the bed a completely foreign object to him.
This was not his room. This was not even his house.
The realisation startled Arthur to full consciousness. Where was he? Why was he naked and bound? Who was responsible for this?
His heart beat in his throat and he fought the urge to scream for help. He simply had to calm down and take in his situation. He would not panic.
Arthur seemed to be in some teenager’s room. There were band posters on the walls, dirty plates with half-eaten bits of food on them, clothes thrown carelessly on the floor. A laptop sat closed on a desk on the other side of the room, and a telescope stood in front of the window.
Arthur swallowed thickly. Beside the telescope on the table was a bottle of lube, and beside that...a bin overflowing with tissues.
Great. He’d been kidnapped by a perverted teenager.
The sound of a door slamming shut made Arthur’s heart race anew. He quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleep. There were muffled voices coming from downstairs, that if he strained he could just barely make out.
“I’ve got you a surprise,” a woman’s voice sing-songed. There was a grumbled response and then, “It’s upstairs in your room. Oh, I’m sure you’ll love it!”
Slow, heavy footsteps ascended the stairs, each step closer a thud against Arthur’s ribcage as his heart pounded faster and harder. Still, Arthur kept his eyes shut and stayed still.
“Oh my God,” Merlin gasped. Arthur Pendragon—naked, beautiful, blonde, Arthur Pendragon—was in his bed. Not just in, tied to his bed. His wrists were bound with leather belts to the bedposts and his legs were splayed out bonelessly on the duvet.
Despite the shock, or maybe because of it, Merlin took a moment to appreciate the naked Arthur Pendragon on his bed. He was just as breathtakingly beautiful up close as he was far away: the attractive definition of his muscles, the perfect complexion of his skin, his pink lips that Merlin knew stretched wide when he smiled.
Merlin allowed his vision to drift lower and bit his lip to keep from whimpering. The things he wanted to do to Arthur...the things he could do with the man tied up and helpless in his bed.
Merlin shook his head. Key word: helpless. It would be wrong to take advantage, so wrong. And what about when Arthur woke up? No. As much as Merlin wanted Arthur, he would do what was right.
Resolve therefore fixed, he spun around just in time to see his mother approach the door with a hopeful expression. “Do you like your birthday present?” she asked.
Merlin grew livid. “This is too far, Mum.”
“You don’t like it?” Her bottom lip began to tremble.
“Mum! This is a person. You can’t just kidnap someone and give them to me as a gift!”
“But—the telescope—you always look—I wanted you to be happy!” Had she gotten it wrong? Was this not what her baby wanted? Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
Merlin threw a glance over his shoulder at the unconscious Arthur. “In the hallway,” he bit out and led her out of his room, closing the door behind him.
“I’ve upset you,” Hunith said miserably. “I only meant to make you happy.”
“Mum,” Merlin began softer, “I appreciate the thought. But this is wrong. You have to put him back before he wakes up and decides to call the police.”
“I didn’t get you anything else for your birthday...”
Merlin nearly snapped again, but refrained. “That’s fine. I don’t need anything special anyway. Let’s just let him go, yeah?”
Hunith nodded uncertainly. “Alright.”
When Merlin opened the door, Arthur’s eyes were staring back at him. They took in his appearance—grocery shop uniform, unkempt hair, startled blue eyes—and then his mother’s.
“Who are you?” Arthur asked accusingly with fire in his eyes.
Merlin felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Arthur was speaking to him, acknowledging him for the first time. But the circumstances were anything but ideal.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? That’s a funny name,” Arthur spat. “Where are my clothes?”
Merlin sighed and looked over his shoulder. “Mum, where are his clothes?”
“I’ll go get them.” She hurried from the room.
Once gone, Merlin cautiously approached the bed. “I am sorry, for all of this. My mother is a bit unorthodox in her ideas. Let me just—” Arthur flinched away. “I’m only going to untie you,” Merlin said gently.
Arthur pursed his lips, then relaxed and nodded. Merlin crawled gingerly over him and began to undo the leather belt securing him to the bedpost. Then he did the other. He practically jumped off the bed when Arthur was free. He didn’t like the look Arthur was giving him, a look that promised death if Merlin tried to pull anything.
With impeccable timing, Hunith returned with Arthur’s clothes. She handed them to Merlin, who set them on the bed next to Arthur, and the two of them left Arthur to dress in peace. Arthur shoved his legs into his pants and nearly tripped in place when trying to get on his trousers.
He was about to leave when the telescope caught his eye again. Curious, he bent down and looked through the eyepiece. He saw his own bedroom across the street and his heart jumped to his throat again. It was just as he’d thought. Whoever this man was, he had obviously been watching him—and getting off on it based on the evidence—and his mother, clearly just as sick as he was, had tried to give him away as a birthday present. What twisted neighbourhood had he moved into? He’d always thought Hunith such a nice little lady.
Partly disgusted, partly fascinated, Arthur looked away and went for the door. When he opened it, Merlin was there leaning against the wall, biting his nails with worry. Arthur gave him a glare.
“I-I’ll show you out,” Merlin stammered. Arthur followed him down the stairs and to the door.
He was just about to leave when Merlin put a hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, Arthur flinched and Merlin looked horrified at what he’d done.
“Sorry! I just...you won’t call the police, will you? Please don’t. My mother doesn’t understand what she did is wrong and she’s...she’s all I have. I’m really, really—”
“I won’t call anyone, alright?” Arthur snapped. “Just don’t...don’t talk to me ever again. And find a new hobby, you creep.” With that, Arthur opened the front door himself and slammed it behind him.
“He didn’t mean that,” Merlin heard his mother say behind him.
Merlin spun furiously on his heel. “Just leave me alone!” He brushed past her and began taking the stairs two at a time.
“You don’t want cake?” she called after him.
“No! This is the worst birthday ever!” The whole house echoed with the sound of his bedroom door booming closed.
How could she do this? How could she even think something like this was okay? Why couldn’t she just leave well enough alone? Merlin had been perfectly content to watch from afar...
When enough time had passed, Merlin went back to his chair by the window and looked through his telescope. The curtains in Arthur’s room were closed.
*
Nine days went the same way. Nine days Arthur didn’t once open the curtains, and Merlin found himself getting angry. His mother had ruined everything. Now he had nothing to keep himself occupied with. Maybe he really did need a new hobby.
But then the second Saturday after Merlin’s birthday, Merlin was surprised to see Arthur’s crimson curtains pulled apart. Merlin gasped when he saw Arthur laying in bed, naked but for his underpants, and watching telly as he had before the whole incident. Only now his eyes would occasionally wander to the window.
Merlin didn’t know what had happened to cause this change of events, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Arthur in his near-nude glory, apparently uncaring of the fact that he was on display for Merlin, or—dare Merlin even hope?—laying himself out purposefully.
Merlin would be lying if he said he hadn’t had a good long wank to the image of Arthur tied in his bed after Arthur left. Hunith might be crazy but she knew what Merlin liked. With Arthur all tightly bound, he could take his time, explore each expanse of skin and commit the feeling of it under his tongue to memory. It was difficult letting Arthur go that day.
Merlin thought of that again, Arthur strung up, only now in his own large bed across the street. He thought of Arthur’s arms straining against the leather belts, writhing under Merlin, moaning because it hurt but it hurt so wonderfully good.
When Merlin came, he swore Arthur had looked right at him.
*
Arthur had no idea what he was doing. He only knew that ever since he’d seen the telescope in that man’s room, he’d felt different. It wasn’t enough that he’d closed his curtains; everything he did, everywhere he went, he could feel a pair of eyes watching him.
He’d never been more turned on in his life.
Now, three days after having decided to reopen his curtains, Arthur found himself achingly hard. Three days he had let this man—he really ought to find out his name—watch him as he went about his usual routine in his room. Three days he had felt keen eyes bore into him with enough intensity to make a weaker man shrivel. For three days he had wondered, What if I were to take it one step further?
On the fourth day, just thirteen days after he’d found himself tied up in a room across the street, he started to touch himself, right where the man with the telescope could see him. Arthur pointedly kept his eyes closed, not daring to let his gaze stray to the small black rectangle in the second floor of the house outside the window.
On his wrists he could almost feel the leather chafing against his skin as he imagined being back in the room, tied to the bed. After he’d gotten home that day and had a little while to think about it, he was surprised to find that part of him had maybe, possibly, liked it.
He wasn’t naked now—he only had a hand down his pants—but he could be. He could take off the one piece of clothing keeping him modest and lay spread out, fuck upwards into his fist as the man watched. Arthur thought he could hear the man’s sharp inhale from across the street as he raised his knees to rid himself of the final barrier between decency and nudity. Then he firmly planted his heels in the bed and began stroking his cock in earnest.
*
Merlin was not a religious man. He had never been. He had never prayed, but if he had, it would have been for Arthur Pendragon to touch himself while Merlin was watching.
Perhaps there was a God after all.
Merlin’s mouth went dry when Arthur tossed his boxers over the side of the bed and laid back to start fucking his hand. It was late, very late, late enough for Merlin to feel comfortable stripping himself without the threat of his mum coming in unannounced. Naked, he felt closer to Arthur than he ever had before, and it wasn’t hard to imagine himself riding the thick cock Arthur pumped with his strong hands.
It became even easier to picture when he lubed up his fingers and began working them inside his arse.
Fuck, Arthur was so fit, not that Merlin didn’t already know that, of course he knew that, but it was so obvious now when Arthur was bare and exerting himself. Merlin wanted to wrap his hands around the biceps that stripped the long cock, wanted to feel those thigh muscles clench beneath the skin. And that arse, oh fuck, that perfect arse...
Almost falling out of the chair let Merlin know when it was time to move things to the bed. He took one last long look over Arthur’s body—what he wouldn’t give to be the hair stuck to that forehead with sweat—and relocated himself. He poured a little extra lube onto his fingers and too quickly he was coming hard, the milky fluid filling his navel and overflowing to drip down the side of his stomach and stain the duvet.
When he gathered enough strength to get up, the next time Merlin looked through the eyepiece, Arthur was lying back, spent and breathing heavily. His eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling, his softening cock limp across his hip. Then, just as Merlin was about to call it a night and look away, Arthur let his eyes fall right to his window.
*
It was really remarkable how long Arthur went without running into Merlin at the grocery. He was a mortal like everyone else, though Merlin sometimes thought otherwise, and went shopping for food just as often. But it always seemed to be on days Merlin had off, or it wasn’t his shift, or Merlin was in the freezer section while Arthur was buying bread.
And then they literally bumped into each other in the fruit section. The only thing that stopped Merlin from making a run for it was that they also knocked over a fair amount of oranges, and it was his bloody job to pick them up. And because Arthur is Arthur, he bent down to help.
“You don’t have to—” Merlin started but didn’t finish. In his glance up his gaze skirted over Arthur’s tie...the black tie that hung on the door of his closet but he passed by every morning. The tie that he never wore.
“What?” Arthur looked down at himself, immediately feeling self-conscious. Finding nothing wrong, he gave Merlin a “Are you daft?” look and finished picking up the oranges when Merlin failed to do so.
“What?” Arthur repeated, because now Merlin was staring and it was getting weird. Weirder than running into the man that watches you have a wank and whose mother ties you up because it’s her son’s birthday.
“N-Nothing,” Merlin muttered. He took a step right to walk away but Arthur stopped him.
“It’s obviously something.”
Merlin bit the inside of his cheek. Why was Arthur making this difficult?
“Your tie,” Merlin said, giving in.
“My tie.” Arthur looked down, then up again slowly.
“It’s not—you never—”
“I don’t wear this one,” Arthur completed for him, because he got it now, that Merlin watched him so much he knew his wardrobe. And while that should be more than a little creepy, Arthur found it a bit flattering.
“Um. Yeah.” Merlin blushed and tried to escape again, only for Arthur to step in his way a second time.
“What’s your name?” Arthur figured he should at least know who it is he’s been putting on a show for these past few nights.
Merlin licked his suddenly chapped lips. “How about...I tell you...if you tell me why you’re wearing that tie?”
Arthur’s heart beat inexplicably fast when the corners of that perfect mouth curved up. It wasn’t a full smile, just a flicker of one, a promise of more, and Arthur wanted so much to unleash its full potential.
A tiny voice in the back of his head worried he might have developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome.
“Spilled tea,” Arthur explained. “Unfortunate that my kitchen looks out on the wood behind my house, I suppose.”
“I don’t—” But Merlin stopped himself again, because that would be giving away too much. Instead he took a deep breath, held out his hand, and said, “Merlin. My name is Merlin.”
Arthur shook the offered hand immediately. “Merlin,” he said, tasting the name on his lips. “Funny, Hunith never mentioned she had a son. But she also never mentioned she was mental.”
“My mum isn’t—she’s just—”
“Tell me, Merlin, how old are you?”
Merlin took his hand back and glared at Arthur. “Twenty-four,” he spat. Then, softer, “Twenty-five, I mean.”
“Ah, right. You’ve just had a birthday, haven’t you?”
Merlin sighed and went to sidestep Arthur again. This time Arthur let him. “I have to get back to work.”
Arthur spun on his heel. “Just one last thing.” He waited until Merlin turned to look at him. “Have you got a new hobby yet?”
Merlin’s shoulders tensed. It was the equivalent of asking if he still watched.
When Merlin didn’t reply right away, Arthur continued, “D’you know what colour pants I wore yesterday?”
Merlin automatically pursed his lips to make the “wh” sound for “white” before he could stop himself. But that alone gave Arthur all he needed to know, that and the flush of colour that rose to Merlin’s cheeks.
Arthur smiled at Merlin for the first time. It was more of a smirk, but Merlin would take what he could get. “I’ll see you around, Merlin. Well, you’ll be seeing me, I suppose.” Without another word of farewell, Arthur walked away, leaving a gaping Merlin behind him.